The manuscript of hidden heaven waiting for the day
To find the simple pleasures not knowing its true way
Check the compass, seize the wheel
Fate holds the ever weighted deal
Markers lost, battles won, intense is the rising sun
The sextants labor instants here on earth
Dilemmas fuel while tools do skew environmental worth
Light a fire, look to stars
Take a nap else land on mars
Gloom moves in, no battles to win; maybe it is time to dim.
The walk to where is not essential
The how and why has greater potential
Not looking for appeal, but rather to reveal
As to know things crucial like what is truly real
Situate and plan, find the right reasons for men
And this then is when…
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